Reunited
by Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Be
Summary: Geralt had lived life as he had previously after the Wild Hunt. Living on the road again was like he remembered, but it felt even more lonely than before. Someone was going to come back into his life. Someone who naturally belonged.
1. Chapter 1: The Start

**Author's Note** : Hello everyone, this is my first attempt at writing a Fan Fiction. Feeling engrossed in the Witcher universe I just had to put my thoughts on paper, and hopefully they have turned out well. All criticism will be graciously accepted. My thanks goes out to Danish Existence, for the advice he has given me. This is the first chapter in a planned 3 chapter story.

 **Disclaimers** : This piece has not been Beta-read. This piece of work is an adaptation to the writing of Andrzej Sapkowski and to the work of CD Projeckt Red. This is for mature audiences, for it contains violence, blood, offensive language, and graphic sexual situations.

* * *

Chapter One: The Start

A rustle in the bushes made Geralt spring up. The scent in the bushes around him resembled a wolf, but the scent was familiar. ' _Smells of gooseberries and… lilac_ ,' Geralt thought to himself. This was no ordinary creature.

Staying in the cover of the foliage around him, the wolf circled Geralt. He caught a glimpse of black fur among the plants. The movement had stopped, and the beast moved towards him. As an impulse, Geralt drew his sword as he would for any wolf. This creature however, proved less threatening upon the sight of it. The eyes were what had caught his attention, a violet blaze emitted from them. They felt as if they were piercing into him, but they had filled him with a known warmth. The wolf neared closer to Geralt till it reached his feet. For a reason unbeknownst to him, Geralt felt not stress as he should, but tranquility. Reaching a hand out to this wolf, beckoning it forward, he sheathed his blade. The violet eyed beast had accepted his gesture and rubbed its face on Geralt's hand. This brought a soft smile to the witcher's face, as if this touch brought him happiness that he longed for. Within a moment of the touch, the wolf clamped its jaws upon his hand, drawing blood. Feeling frozen in place, betrayed, he stood still as the wolf sneered at him and ran off.

Blood from the bite flowed slowly now, for witchers recover their wounds with haste. Situations like these have made Geralt who he is. While he had offered this black wolf kindness the wolf gave him pain. Geralt always had to have on an air of fortitude, for that is what is needed in his line of work. His true self he only let show around those dearest to him, but those times were sparse.

Dreary was his feeling after this conflict with the wolf and he settled back down on the forest floor. He heard more rustling coming from the bushes around him, but the sound was light so he thought nothing of it. Before Geralt had drifted into sleep, he felt a wet tongue brush along his bitten hand. He opened his eyes and met those of another animal, this time a fox. It was a gentle creature of which had a pelt the shade of chestnut and eyes as blue as the oceans of Skellige. Feeling cared for, Geralt let himself slip back to sleep. While he slept and after the fox had licked Geralt's wound clean, the nurturing animal curled up to his hand and slept itself.

-[/\\]-

A cool breeze had crept under the door of Geralt's room, sending shivers up his neck and waking him from his dream. He was staying at a dump inn named, "Two Trails", in a simple village a couple miles south of Wyzima. Unluckily for Geralt, he could not afford much better board. The contracts he was getting came far and few, but every Oren, Floren, Mark, and Crown earned was fully appreciated. Things were however looking up for the Alderman in the village he was boarding had a situation with some horned beast. From his lead that he had received back when he traveled through Wyzima, there was a horned beast two oxen tall and a road wide that had been laying waste to wagons on the road. Though he would help the people of this village, all that was concerning him was the pay.

He rose up from his bed and slipped his boots on that had not fully dried form yesterday's rain. He threw on his jacket that he dearly needed to replace, a Nekker had ripped a hole under his right sleeve. The Nekker had paid dearly for that. Finally adjusting the leather strap of his sheaths on his chest, he was set to go and speak to the Alderman.

The inn which Geralt had stayed in was practically abandoned besides himself and two peasant men at a table taking part in a quiet conversation. As he walked by the two men, one had leaned over and spat on his shoe. The reason why Geralt chose to help these people besides the money he would never know. Saying nothing to the men and dropping a few crowns on the bar to pay for his room, he made his way out onto the streets. They were muddy from the rain of yesterday and the feeling of the mud was unpleasant to him, for he liked to stay clean when he could. Cursing to himself, Geralt continued to slosh through the mud on his way to the Alderman's house. It was early, before the second crow of the cock, but Geralt preferred to take care of things as fast as he could. Approaching the door of the Alderman's hut he gave the door a rapid knock.

"Who the bloody fuck is knocking at this time?" said the Alderman.

"Your witcher for higher," Geralt retorted, with a level of irritation in his voice.

"Oh! My apologies master witcher, give me a moment." Geralt heard the sound of pans and bowls moving from inside the hut as he waited patiently, leaning on the door post.

The Alderman opened the door, appearing to be in his late fifties, giving Geralt of smile that bode not an ounce of happiness. "Welcome to our quaint village master witcher," giving him a short bow, "I hope the inn served you well."

"Besides the rickety bed and the constant draft, it was just fine. Now what can you tell me of this horned monster who is destroying wagons?" said Geralt, wanting to get to the point and cut the pleasantries.

"Well," the Alderman said as he spat in the dirt, "Just a few weeks past everything was quite calm in these here parts. Then one morn' a man came yelling bloody murder from the road down south. I thought him just a drunk at first, but then I saw the man had gashes over his chest and he was losing quite a lot of blood. I tried to help stop the bleeding but the man had nothin' left in him. I found a parchment in his pocket that showed he was leading a cart up north to Wyzima full of spices and dried meats."

"Did this man have any other injuries on him besides the gashes?" questioned Geralt.

"Now that you mention that, the man did come runnin' with quite a limp in his stride. Methinks his leg was broken. No, shattered," said the Alderman, obviously trying hard to remember. It could be hard for him, Geralt thought, for the Alderman reeked of stout.

"Okay, he was hit with a lot of force then. Has anyone ventured down to his cart?"

"Yes, one of our brave young men Sigrid went out to catch a peek at the cart. From what he told me the cart had been smashed to pieces and if the man was transporting meat, well it was all gone," said the Alderman. The meat would've attracted any monster, unfortunately for the cart driver, this monster was a big one.

"My lead told me that there were ' _Wagons_ ' that had been destroyed. Have there been more?" asked Geralt.

The Alderman waited a moment to respond. "Two more carts have been found, but the drivers for those haven't been seen. You can find them a ways down the road south."

"Alright I will head on that ways soon. First, what will my pay be?" Geralt desperately needed more coin.

The Alderman, expecting this question calmly said, "How does 200 crowns sound?" Though not sounding like much, Geralt needed that coin, even though it was a little low for a monster that could maim a man and shatter a cart to pieces. He was not going to push for higher pay.

"Sounds good to me sir, I will be off now," giving the Alderman a grateful bow before he went.

-[/\\]-

Geralt had begun his trek down the road south of the village on Roach in search of the maimed man's cart. A few ideas came to Geralt's mind as to what the monster could be, but most likely to him was a Chort. A rather large one at that. The man's leg was probably shattered when the Chort charged the cart, making the cart shatter as well. Knowing Chorts for having quite an appetite, Geralt thought the food cart was easy food for it.

As he was riding down the road, he encountered a heavy aroma that was on the side of the road. ' _Must be the spice_ _cart_ ," Geralt thought to himself. He dismounted roach and drew his sword, just in case. When he found a trail of blood leading to the village, he determined it was the blood of the cart driver. Continuing further on off road, he found the wreckage of the cart. At the wreckage there were spice jars laying around broken, a horse carcass that was chewed on to the bone, and wood splinters everywhere. On a chunk of wood he found the indents of horns, of which resembled those of a ram. The monster had to be a Chort, for no other creature could cause this much damage with their horns but such a creature.

Geralt noticed large tracks that were laid in an odd fashion, showing the Chort was probably disoriented from ramming into the cart. Upon reaching a cave opening which smelt strongly of dung and rotting flesh, he had found the beast's lair. Pausing for a moment, he looked in his side pouch for a vial of Cat and knocked it back, so he could see better in the cave's darkness. As he descended into the cave, he heard a low growl coming from inside the cave chamber he had just entered. The witcher put a special oil on his silver blade to increase its lethality against the Chort. There was a large grey haired animal sleeping in a distant corner of the cave.

Geralt sneaked up to the sleeping animal and decided to start with a thrust into the creature's spine, sending blood spewing in the air. It woke with a loud cry as it flailed its short limbs at him. Quickly back stepping the Chorts efforts to land a blow, he mad one of his own, horizontally slicing into one of the monsters limbs. This precise blow yielded another screech of pain. The beast stood up and faced the witcher and started to charge. However it was wounded to it stumbled in its charge and smashed its head against the cave wall. Rendering the creature unconscious, this made Geralt's job easy. With an almost effortless chop, he severed the Chorts head form its body, and he put the head in a sack.

Before Geralt left the cave he observed it for signs of the other two missing cart drivers. Finding them in pieces with pain frozen on the face of the cart driver who still had one. The other man died fast, as his face was crushed. He searched the bodies for anything to identify them, but found nothing.

Time had passed a bit since the witcher went into the cave, but it was still before noon. Slinging the sack containing the Chort head over Roach's haunches, he rode hastily back to the village. The village had woken up since the last time he was there, but no one livened up at the sight of him and the large bloody sack that drooped off the side of Roach.

Geralt approached the Alderman's house a second time, heaving the sack of the dismembered head with him to the door. Knocking at the door, and again, the Alderman made some brash remark but Geralt didn't care to hear it. The Alderman opened the door and now didn't only smelled of stout, but it was clear he had a lot of it, and it was not even mid-day.

"Was the *belch* contract a success witcher?" mumbled the drunk Alderman, struggling to keep still.

"Yes," Geralt said as he threw the sack on the ground with a thud, "Now what about my 200 crowns?"

The Alderman looked confused for a moment then gained some form of enlightenment for he threw Geralt a hefty pouch, "There is 250, found 50 crowns on the man's corpse when I looked at it again. He'd want you to have it for killing that fat bastard."

"Thank you very much," replied Geralt, "I will be on my way now. If you have any more problems in the future I will be glad to help. Farewell." This quaint village stinking of piss, mud, and cheap booze, Geralt never wished to enter again. The inn was terrible.

-[/\\]-

' _The ground here is more comfortable than that old bed,'_ thought Geralt as he made camp in a clearing a good five miles away from the village. Setting a bundle of sticks down, he moved is left hand in a way that made fire spew out, igniting his campfire. ' _Always the dammed rain here_ ,' he thought as he peeled his boots off his feet, setting them beside the fire to dry. The ground that he had settled on had a thick covering of moss, and tall grass surrounding his campsite. Roach neighed quietly with glee as she nibbled on a few long strands. Slipping into his fur bed roll, Geralt tried to fall asleep. Something felt missing. He felt the need for warmth, although the fire was burning bright. The space beside him felt empty, as if something belonged. Making himself comfortable after a time of pondering, he then went to sleep.

Dreaming again this night, he had the same vision. The black wolf biting him and running away, then the fox coming to help him. Unlike the dream of the night before, the fox instead of curling on his hand, lay beside him in the space that had felt empty. This filled him with the warmth he had desired, making him wonder why. ' _Why is this dream bringing me comfort?_ ' Geralt had thought to himself. The dream was pleasant, and made him think of what he needed to fill this space when he awoke.

Waking up with a face covered in the morning's dew, he got up and rested on his knees. Dawn was a couple hours off, so this time was spent meditating. This time was needed for Geralt to hone his thoughts and mind, to control his breathing and to ready himself for a day on the road. Dawn started to break as he raised himself. Mounting Roach, they traveled down the road. The destination of his travel he did not know, nor would he ever.

Dawn was nice this morning, not a cloud in the sky and a touch of heat was in the air. No one was around, which let Geralt keep a steady gallop along the road. The rain from two days past had finally dried and the roads were clear of puddles. Through an abandoned village he went, the huts in disrepair and decaying away. Nothing seemed to have forced anyone out of the empty settlement, so Geralt felt no immediate threat. Until there was a cry of terror in the distance. Dismounting his horse and drawing his steel, we ran deftly towards the sound of commotion. There was two large men standing by a hut beating a man with two bludgeons.

"Get off of me you stinking pigs!" screamed the man who was being beaten. "Shut your trap you plowing goat fucker," said one of the assailants as he walloped the man on the head, knocking him out cold. The men then started to search the body. Pulling out a satchel and umping its contents on the ground, which included many pieces of parchment. This man was a courier.

"Is there a problem here you 'goat fuckers?" said Geralt coldly, straightening his spine.

"Get out of here you cat eyed freak, before I beat the piss out of you," said one of the two ruffians, spitting venom through his words. That was not going to help his case.

In two bounds, Geralt connected his silver studded fist to the man's jaw, feeling it crack with his punch. The second man drew a stiletto from under his trousers and gave a yell as he ran at the witcher, lunging at him. Side stepping the attempt, then by doing a half-pirouette Geralt's steel had caught the man's legs, making him topple over with a screech of pain as blood spilt over the dirt. He gathered the two men and tied them up to the fence post of a deserted hut. With the problem taken care of, the witcher came to the beaten courier. Helping the bruised man to his feet, the courier came to and said in a mutter, "Thank you sir…," before he fainted.

One of the huts had still been in fair condition, and Geralt set the man down on a cushioned chair. An animal skin of mead found on one of the ruffians that had attacked the courier was a nice surprise and enough of a reward to Geralt for now. He had also gathered the parchments for the courier's satchel, a bundle of letters with seals he did not recognize. Geralt rarely received letters since he was always moving around the north. If a letter found him it was by pure chance. There were only a handful of seals that he knew. A wolf's head which came from Kaer Morhen, of which his ward Ciri was building it back to its fabled glory with the help of Lambert and Eskel along with a few other friends and workers. The boars head of Cerys an Craite, queen of Skellige. The raven of… he would rather not recall the sender of those. The three lilies of Vernon Roach, the leader of Temeria. There was another seal… Triss's seal, but he could not remember what it was.

While Geralt was thinking, the courier had come to. Moaning in pain the man stretched his body in all directions he could.

"Don't overdo it friend," said the witcher, handing the man the skin of mead.

The man jumped at Geralt's words and observed his savior. "Would you be, by some chance, Geralt of Rivia?" said the man with a look of relief on his face.

"I would be him, why do you care to know?" replied Geralt.

"Thank the gods I have found you! I have been searching for you for about two month now. I have seen enough of the north to last me the rest of the days. Did you know in Vel-"

"I would thank the gods that I found you if I were you. Had I decided to stay in camp a few more minutes you would probably be dead now at the hands of those swine. Now tell me why I have been searched for?" said Geralt, cutting off the courier and crossing his arms over his chest.

"My apologies master witcher for my tangent. I had received a task to deliver one letter to no one but yourself, and as fast as possible. The pay was good, too good I thought, but then I learned tracking you down would be quite the hassle. If you would kindly hand me my satchel- oh, thank you. Now let me see here… ah! Here it is."

The courier handed Geralt a letter with a seal of a rose in red wax. "Who gave you the task to deliver this letter?" questioned the white haired witcher, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"I do not entirely know sir, a man had approached me with the task, but I know that he was not the writer of it. No man of his stature would use a seal," responded the courier with certainty.

"First glances do not always prove everything. Many people are prone to deceiving."

"If this man was deceiving me then he was doing a dammed impeccable job at it," retorted the man, offended a little.

"Alright alright," said Geralt, "I believe you. I will read this letter shortly and you can tell you employer that your delivery was a success. But first, would you like to pay your regards to those two kind men outside?" Geralt purposed, as he was handing the courier a club that one of the men had used with a crooked smile.

"Oh with pleasure master witcher, with pleasure," the man said, returning the smile.

On their walk outside, they stopped, shook hands and went their separate ways. While mounting Roach, Geralt heard a few distinct thuds of a club against bone. ' _The man can swing harder than I thought_ ,' he had thought with a grin of satisfaction.

-[/\\]-

The day however was late, the sun was maybe two hours from its fall. After an hour of brisk riding, Geralt had found a doable site to camp. A small clearing next to a cedar with a fallen log laid on the side of the clearing. Gathering some small stones in a circle in the middle of the clearing, Geralt gathered some wood and made a fire like he had the night before with Igni.

Finally with his camp set up, he sat on the fallen log and broke the red rose seal of the letter. From the letter fell a single red rose petal that Geralt caught in his hand. The smell of this petal was strong, nearly intoxicating. It looked like something he had seen before but he could not pin it down exactly. He out the petal in his chest pocket for it smelled decent and held a matter of importance. Then, as he looked at the letter, the first words had surprised him, for no one has ever said these words to him and meant it.

' _I have missed you Geralt, dearly._

 _I remember the last time I saw you, after the Wild Hunt had been defeated and we had gone back to Kaer Morhen. I did not wish to go, but I went for Cirilla, and what I found there took me aback. I expected to see you and… and Yennefer… sitting together and laughing joyously together. I prepared myself for that, for it was what I expected. However I was wrong. I saw you standing apart from her, with no affection connecting the two of you. I was so sure you were going to be together, for as long as I knew about you two. It broke my heart that we had to separate so you could find your Yen, leaving no place for me anymore. Oh the nights I stayed up, asking myself why I could not be the one by your side, filled me with many tears. After seeing you without Yennefer in the picture I was so confused. But I remembered those days you spent in Novigrad, the party, the kiss… I was drunk, but I had felt the emotion in it. I said sorry for I did not know what else to say to it. After we sailed off to Kovir, I saw you stay on the dock, I saw your eyes watching me as far as you could. I did not know what to feel… I just suspected that was you making a little sacrifice for me. After it was all over and what I had suspected about you and Yen did not come into fruition I felt all of my old feelings rush back. You probably don't remember it, but the night I had showed up at Kaer Morhen when I first met Cirilla, you told me how happy you were that I was alive, and more that I was there. Those words broke me and we shared a moment I never wanted to end. I am just going on and on but you do not know how happy I am that you are out of Yen's claws… how she treated you I would never wish on anyone. All I ever wanted was to be by your side and take care of you, be there when you needed me, but there was never room. Until now. Please think of what I have said, think about me, and think about you too. I don't want to be a disappointment or mistake anymore…_

 _The Rose has started to bloom… I will be waiting…_

 _Sincerely, Triss Merigold'_

Geralt folded the piece of parchment and leaned back to stare at the night sky. ' _Why did I have to make that wish…? I could have been happy. Triss was under the effect of no magic but yet she cared about me like no one else_ _has_ ,' Geralt thought to himself with regret. Caring for Triss was something he did not because of a wish, but because she truly meant something to him. Triss was there when Geralt needed her the most, she was there when it mattered. Shame is what covered Geralt, for what he needed was always there but never within reach. ' _At the break of dawn I shall head for Kovir, I need to see her_.' Putting the letter from Triss in his pocket along with the rose petal he hurriedly went to sleep.

Visiting the clearing in his dream for the third time, Geralt saw no violet eyed wolf, and no chestnut fox. Laying on his bedroll he felt his camp fire reignite, and he felt a figure slide next to him. It was no animal, but a woman. The woman emanated heat as well she smelt of roses and had hair the color of chestnut bunched in two small buns on the back of her head. Wanting to get closer to this woman, Geralt reached his hand over her side and pulled her to him. A rush of happiness and great emotion occurred when she had held his hand which was draped over her. ' _This is how things should be_ ,' he thought to himself with a smile he did not know he had. All he knew was that he was happy.


	2. Chapter 2: The Journey

Chapter Two

The morning's drizzle woke Geralt from his pleasant dream. "Shit, the rain again," he swore to himself in a grumble. With the clouds darkening in the distance, they let him know a storm was rolling in. Digging into a pouch on his horse, Geralt pulled out an old brown cloak that had been worn by the years of use. At least it still kept the water out. Roach looked uneasy at the sight of the storm, so the witcher calmed the horse with the use of Axii for the sight of his mare unsettled made him the same. Travelling for all of yesterday he had to be somewhere near Dorian. There were three roads that went south from Wyzima, and the village of which the Chort plagued rested on the south west road towards Dorian and Gors Velen. Knowing this, it would not take Geralt long to reach the city of Gors Velen. From there he could ride up north to Novigrad and find a ship bearing towards Kovir.

It was sheer luck that the deceased cart driver had 50 crowns on him, for the voyage to Kovir would not be cheap. Food and supplies needed restocking, so he would need more money if he was going to make it to Kovir, or more luck. He still had the hand crossbow Vessimir had given him what seemed so long ago, giving him the chance to kill some game. With everything from camp all packed onto Roach, he set off along the road. The wind started to pick up quickly, causing the trees to bend. ' _It will only be a matter of minutes till the rain picks up_ ,' thought Geralt with a slight frown on his face. Giving Roach a light kick on the side, she picked up her pace nearing a sprint.

As he had thought the rain did come, and it was hard. Small streams had started to cover the road, splashing over his pants while Roach rid through them. There was no clean clothing left in the witcher's possession for he had not had the luxury of a wash. A strike of lightening landed close by Geralt, having no effect on his horse for it was still calmed by his sign. Personally he distasted storms, but they brought troubles that could bring him work. On the side of the road was a family trying to pull a wheel from their hand cart from the mud. Although Geralt had a place he wanted to be as fast as he could, he was not entirely heartless. Bringing his steed to a halt, he slid off the saddle to help the family.

"Could you use some assistance?" he asked the family.

"We very much could," said the mother of the family with a toothy grin.

Lifting the wheel from the mud with ease and settling it back on the ground he turned back to his horse.

"We cannot let you leave without something for your kindness with how rare it is, here," said the mother as she handed him something wrapped in cloth.

Giving her a light nod, he shoved the gift in a pouch and took off again. The smell of the bundle she gave him made his stomach growl. ' _Stale bread… better than nothing at all_ ,' he thought with a shred of optimism. He needed food and this was something.

Entering Dorian and almost crushing a chicken under Roach's hooves, he assumed it was around midday. Traveling at the same pace Reaching Gors Velen was possible by night fall. He was confused to see a Manticore's head mounted above the town's gate as a trophy. It had been preserved for its mane was just as golden as it would have been alive. This town and a vision of such a beast came into his mind, ' _Maybe I had killed the creature_ ,' he thought struggling to remember. With all of the work he had done in his life, it was hard for Geralt to recall all of his contracts. Drifting his eyes from the mounted head, he continued on his trek.

-[/\\]-

Reaching Gors Velen after the long day's journey, Geralt was soaked from the heavy rain. While searching for an inn to rest in, he found a decent one for a change. Named the, "Sleeping lilies", it was a recently made development. Hoping the beds were recently made as well, the witcher tied his mare to a post outside the inn. Heat poured from the inn's hearth, made a welcome impact on Geralt who was damp through and through. The inn was mildly full, a few guards sitting at a table enjoying some drinks and a table with two half-elf girls arguing over something, as their full blooded brethren constantly did. He walked to the inn's counter and caught the attention of the innkeeper.

"Oh! Master witcher, welcome to my inn," greeted the man.

"Do I know you?" asked Geralt.

"I would not expect you to," the man chuckled, "I remember you from Foltest's siege camp at La Valette Castle. You were in a tent with a red haired woman Triss Merigold, if I remember correctly, I had intruded at a bad time." Then Geralt saw a tattoo of a silver lily on the man's neck. ' _So this was the man who interrupted me and Triss in the tent. How did this man survive the battle?_ ' he wondered. "How are things with the lady, eh witcher?"

"Well I would know a hell of a lot sooner if I was in Kovir," said Geralt with a light laugh. "It turns out I am heading there now, I will be gaining passage in Novigrad. Nice inn you've made yourself, how does a solider afford this?"

"A man is rewarded for his loyalty here in Temeria, and Vernon has graced those soldiers who stayed true to who they were. I was proud and always loyal, so I was rewarded handsomely," boasted the man. "But please master witcher, take rest in any room you would wish. It is on the house. Come down in an hour and I'll get you a drink."

"I know not what I did to deserve your hospitality, but thank you", said the witcher as he gave a grateful bow. ' _This will save me some coin thankfully_ ,' Geralt thought with relief.

The witcher headed up to his room and sighed with relief at the sight of clean linens and a fire place next to the bed. Removing his wet clothing he set the pieces next to the flame. Now with nothing covering his scarred body, he grabbed a towel sitting next to a wooden tub to cover himself. He shouted out of his room "Can I get some hot water up here?" He did not hear a reply, but soon after a girl carrying a large barrel of warm water came into his room.

Astonished at the sight of Geralt's scarred and well-toned upper body the girl gave away a slight blush. She hurriedly went to dump the water in his tub. With it nearing the rim, the girl quickly exited the room. Now with no expected company, Geralt could relax and clean himself. Letting the towel drop he jumped into the tub. With the reliving feeling of the warm water he felt his muscles relax. Laying in this place of comfort he had not been in far too long, the previously rain soaked witcher dosed off.

Around half an hour had passed and Geralt felt that his body had pruned in the bath. Standing out of the tub, he dried himself then tied his hair back in a pony tail that laid along his white hair. The stubble on his neck had grown too long and he took a moment to shave with his stiletto. The clothes he had set by the fire had dried quickly and they felt comfortable again on his skin.

Going downstairs from his room, he bumped into a man on the way. "Sorry there master witcher," said the man, continuing off in his own direction. Geralt was confused, for in any other encounter he would have received some distasteful comment. Doubting that anyone here knew of his pivotal part in the conception of this new Temeria, the white haired witcher was skeptical towards everyone's friendly behavior.

Reaching the downstairs of the inn, Geralt noticed a man he knew sitting at a table alone. Vernon Roche. Incomparably cleaner than the last time he had seen Roche in his gorilla camp, he looked like a new person.

"Ah Geralt! Come sit down you old bastard!" Roche shouted with a smile.

"Roche," said Geralt with a slight bow, "How is running a state? Comparable to a spy corps?"

Taking a seat at the table, Roche replied, "Not far off! Just a few more bloody politics, and economy is dreadful. Reviving a currency takes some effort."

"At least you meeting me here has something to do with all of the hospitality. It is nice to see you again. How have things been going in the new Temeria?" Geralt questioned before taking a swig of spirit.

"To say it is going okay would be a piss poor judgement. It is hard to rule a country when your mother was a lady of the night. But I am managing as much as I can. Without you Geralt none of this would have ever been possible. You decided to stick your neck out not for just me and Ves, but for the possibility of a reborn Temeria against Dijkstra. For that I am forever in your debt," Roche said with gratitude in his voice.

"I wasn't going to stand by and let Dijkstra have his way with you, and I would have favored you over him any day. I never trust a man whose leg I had to break," said Geralt with a smirk.

"I am still thankful to you Geralt, and I have something I can do for you. I heard from the innkeeper that you were needing passage to Kovir, correct?"

"It seems that you have informants everywhere, but yes that is right. I am going to meet and old friend," said Geralt.

"Wolf, don't play coy, we both know who you are going to see and I can help. I always liked Triss, good woman, hopefully she forgot the time I grabbed her ass back in Flotsam."

"I would doubt it, sorceresses' memories are impeccable, I would know firsthand," Geralt said with a sad smile.

"No doubting that, but as I said I could help you, and save you a trip to piss ridden Novigrad. I have a schooner that can sail you over to Point Vanis. See it as a small gift for all you've done," said Roche while motioning in the direction to the docks.

Finishing the rest of his spirit Geralt replied, "That would be great Roche, and I never will like Novigrad, the smell of burning flesh is still prevalent. Thank you for not only the passage but letting me skip that dammed place."

"It is no problem Wolf, I owe you tenfold. If you are ever to find yourself in Temeria, as long as I am here, you will be welcomed with open arms," said Roche as they both stood shaking hands.

"I hope you stay around for a while, farewell Roche," Geralt said as Roche departed.

-[/\\]-

It was late in the night when his door creaked open. Springing up from his bed, Geralt looked at the door. A woman dressed in black with eyes of violet stood in the doorway. She strode towards him slowly, moving her shapely hips from side to side, in attempt to infatuate him. Watching this woman with a cold and unwavering stare. She sat by him on the bed, leaning towards him, pressing her chest against his arm.

"You haven't forgotten about me now Geralt, have you?" whispered the woman into his ear.

"Sadly no. I haven't forgotten Yen," he said solemnly.

"Come now Geralt, I know you want to play a little," she said while caressing his neck with her hand.

"No. There is no place for you anymore. Go find another man to wrap around your finger," he said, rejecting her touch as he stood and went to the other side of the room.

"Oh don't tease me Geralt, I know what you want and I am already on the bed," Yen said as she started to unlace her blouse.

"No you do not, but I know what you want. You always wanted what you could not have. Children, power, now me. You will never have me. Now get the hell out," said Geralt, losing his patience.

"Am I not good enough for the famous 'Geralt of Rivia' anymore? You would rather go shag my friend? You sick bastard," she said with anger.

"I was too good for you from the start. I never should have let myself slip under your control. I am my own man and I do not need you to be that for me. I never did. As for your 'friend', I mean more to her than I would ever mean to you. When you were done with me you would toss me aside like a piece of filth, knowing that wish would bring me back. There is no wish and I will not be coming back to you ever. Now leave."

Yennefer let out a shriek of hate as a bolt of orange lightening burst from her hands. Right before the bolt reached him, it being inches from his face, everything went pitch black.

-[/\\]-

Opening his eyes wide open, Geralt rolled out of his bed and onto the floor. Covered in sweat, and gasping for air, he slowly calmed his breathing. ' _It was just a dream?_ ' he thought with astonishment. It had all seemed so real. Then he realized how glad he was that it wasn't real, for she would have made a sizable scar on his face like none of the others he had.

Standing up from the floor, he looked out of his window. It was a couple hours from noon. Going over to a dresser that had a bucket of water on it, he washed his face and dried his sweaty body with a towel. He decided to finish off the rest of the stale bread he had gotten, and hurriedly got dressed and travelled down to the docks. Pulling Roach by her reigns, he found the schooner Roche was talking about. This seemed to be a new build, for its wood was clean and it bore Tamerian blue and white sails. The captain of the ship waved at Geralt, and the witcher lead his steed onto the ship with him, going under deck and tied her up in a stable. The crew was well oiled and responsive to their captain's barks as they were preparing to set sail.

"Master Geralt, please make yourself comfortable," said the captain, gesturing towards a couch located a ways back from the helm, "The ride will be long, but this here ship is fast on the water. We will arrive at Point Vanis next morn'."

The witcher sat on the couch for a handful of hours watching the sails flutter and the gulls fly around the ship. With the time being past midday, Geralt rose from his seat and walked towards the bow. Kneeling there he took time to meditate and think. ' _What am I going to say to her? What if she feels different? It has been two months…_ ' Feelings have changed as quickly as a few minutes in Geralt's past, making certainty a difficult thing for him. He hoped with everything that she would still feel the same.

While Geralt was meditating the sound of a woman singing caught his attention. It was night now so seeing anything in the water would be impossible if it weren't for his witcher eyes. The signing became louder and louder as he saw a figure come closer to the boat. Looking over the side of the schooner he saw the singer. A young siren with blonde hair swam next to the boat. This had not been the crew's first siren for none paid any attention to the signing for around an hour. The siren must have grown bored with waiting for it sprung out of the water. Geralt, silver sword already drawn, swung at an angle, separating the siren from stomach to shoulder. Blood flowed over the deck of the ship, as the crew, unfazed, swept it off the side and got back to work. With the siren being dispatched he pulled out a cloth and cleaned his silver blade. He was curious that no one had seemed to notice the killing of the siren, but these men are sea-hardened, they may have seen the sight countless times.

Making his way into the captain's cabin, Geralt found his cot inside. He was awake in his bed for half an hour, not moving, just lying still. Sleeping was not savory, for dreams have been flooding his rest. However he would rather not meet Triss and have to sleep soon after. Eventually drifting into a deep sleep, he was not greeted with a dream in which seemed like forever.

-[/\\]-

The air in Pont Vanis was heavy in the heat of summer. Although it was one of the furthest northern settlements, it got as warm as the south in the summer. Rising from his bed and stretching thoroughly, Geralt made his way out to the deck. The sun was shining high in the sky, and the castle of Pont Vanis towered high on its peninsula. The port of the capital was busier than a witcher after winter. Ships from all kingdoms flooded the port. Merchant ships unloading and loading cargo were in no short supply.

The crew lowered the sails of the ship, and guided it along into the harbor. One of the men jumped off the side and tied the schooner to the dock. Now at a full stop, Geralt went to the underdeck to retrieve Roach. The previous Roaches never did well on the sea, but this Roach was faring well. Riding his mare off the boat, he raised his hand farewell to the captain.

Geralt had been to Pont Vanis a few times before, but only for contracts, never for a visit. The streets were flourishing with stalls and vendors doing what they could to get a buyer. Kovir has always been a wealthy kingdom, for its mines were world renown. It has maintained this wealth and prosperity for King Esterad Thyssen kept the kingdom neutral during the three Nilfgaard Wars. Triss became adviser to the King, so Geralt supposed the castle was the best place to start looking. ' _I cannot simply waltz into the castle. I need a reason to be there,_ ' he thought to himself. Also not wanting to be empty handed when he finally got to Triss, he decided to find a silver smith.

Knowing that Triss seemed interested in Geralt's wolf medallion, he thought of something he could get her. Three ingots of silver and two rubies were what the witcher had and he hoped that was all that would be needed to recreate his could not be an authentic medallion of the wolf school, for Geralt had no way of immediately infusing the medallion. Geralt was in Kovir, a land far from the Kaer Morhen circle of elements, where he would need to go for it to gain the properties of his medallion. After searching the city for a some time he found a silver smithies shop. The building was empty besides the two dwarves cleaning tools.

"Oi there customer. What can we do ye for?" said one of the dwarves, walking up to him.

"Can you make one of these?" Geralt said as he pointed at his medallion, "I need it done soon if that is no problem."

"Hm, a piece like that will take quite some effort. When are you needing it by?" questioned the other dwarf.

"Preferably tonight. I have the silver and gems for it, along with 100 crowns," he said while showing the pouch of money, "Will that do?"

"Aye, that be enough. Do you want anything different about it?" the first dwarf said as he took a swig of vodka.

"If anything was to change, it would have to be the size. Make it three fourths the size. I will stay in the shop while you work if you do not mind." He was going to stay regardless.

"There be no problem in that, sit over there lad."

Taking off his medallion and handing it to the dwarves made him feel naked. That medallion never left him, no matter what. This is why he wanted to stay in the shop, for he could not risk losing it. These dwarves seemed to be well versed in their craft, for in an hour they had the head shaped and the rubies in place. In what felt like no time at all, the dwarves handed back over his medallion and the one for Triss. The detail these dwarves had been able to capture made the two medallions near identical.

Geralt stepped out of the shop and now was on his way to the nearest inn. ' _The day is too late_ ,' he concluded, making it so that tomorrow was the day he would meet her. As he was on his way to find an inn, a man came off of one of the side streets and yelled, "White hair on the horse! I challenge you to a duel!"

The 'man' looked no older than twenty and was wearing some fine plate armor. "Go home kid before you get yourself hurt," Geralt grumbled in a low tone.

"I said I challenge you! You must comply, for I am of noble birth! Get off your steed and fight, sir!"

Dismounting his horse, the witcher faced the man. "Why am I being challenged?"

"For you look to be a formidable opponent!" yelled the man with a crack in his voice. "Now draw your sword!"

"You first boy," Geralt said, unimpressed by this nobleman.

The man drew his broadsword and stood a wide stance. The witcher did not draw, but ran forward instead. Trying to thrust at Geralt, he instead thrusted way over him, for the witcher rolled under. He grabbed the nobleman's sword and hit the man in the nose with the pommel making blood flow from it.

The noble now rolled on the ground sobbing and holding his now bloodied nose. "Look, you got yourself hurt. You are lucky you challenged me, no other would have let you go with a broken nose," said Geralt as he dropped the broadsword onto the ground. "Try that again and I won't be so easy on you." The man still lay on the street cursing at his loss as the witcher rode away.

-[/\\]-

Morning came as Geralt stepped out of the inn he slept in. ' _Today is the day. I haven't seen Triss in what feels like forever. That is too long_ ,' thought the witcher as he rode off towards the palace.

The gates were lightly guarded for such a large city, so Geralt could enter with ease. There was a single guard standing by the gate.

"State your business witcher," ordered the palace guard with a stern voice.

Waving his hand in front of the guard's face forming the Axii sign, Geralt said, "I am here to meet the royal adviser. She is expecting me."

"Yes…Yes of course. Right this way master witcher," replied the dazed guard as he led him inside the palace doors. Point Vanis was rich, and the castle gave the same image. A large garden with statues of marble and large fountains littered the place. Strangely, not one person inhabited the garden. The guard kept walking towards the palace and told Geralt, "The royal adviser will be up the stairs on your right, second door."

"Thank you for your help, good day," replied Geralt with a pinch of sarcasm. Walking into the main hall of the castle there were still no souls to be found. As the guard said to do, he went up the stairs to the right. ' _This is the moment of truth I suppose_ ,' was his final thought before he reached the door.

"Wait! Don't go in there!" said a voice in a loud whisper.

"Who would you be?" Geralt questioned this voice without turning around.

"I am Miss Merigold's servant Arynia. She is entertaining one of her guests, it would not be wise to enter. Now who are you?" questioned the girl.

He did not reply to her, but instead listened. From inside the room he heard a man's laugh, followed by a soft giggle from Triss. Feeling a sharp pain in his chest with his breathing quickening he needed to stop. ' _Calm yourself witcher. He is_ _a guest, just like the servant girl said, nothing_ _more_ ,' he thought with reassurance. "Sir Desmond! You are a deplorable man but by the gods, do not touch me there!" Triss said playfully. Those cheerful words pierced Geralt with more force than any lance. Turning around leaving, with his hopes and emotions crushed he thought, ' _Well I was right not to trust it, but I deserve it for the way I treated Triss before_.' With a grave look on his face, the witcher now faced the servant girl.

Flashing another sign of Axii, now on the servant girl he told her, "Tell Miss Merigold Geralt of Rivia sends his regards, and do not try to find him, he does not want to be found." The servant girl nodded in response. "Good," said the witcher as he looked around for people, "Take her this medallion as well," Geralt whispered while he handed the girl his replica medallion,"and tell her that I am sorry," he instructed the girl with a lump in his chest.

Running out of the castle, past the dazed guard and back onto Roach outside the gate, Geralt rode off as fast as his horse would let him. There were clouds of another storm following him as he rode. Just like the black furred wolf, he had offered Triss kindness and received pain. No courier of hers would find him again.


	3. Chapter 3: The Memory

Hello my friends, I am incredibly sorry for the long delay on this story, I have been extremely busy. I am back to writing now, and hopefully will be finishing this story up this summer. Thank you for waiting for almost a year for new content, but it is now here! The third chapter is not complete and it will be updated and complete in about a month.

Chapter 3

Sitting in her quarters, Triss looked bewildered at the piece of parchment in front of her. There were many emotions in the chestnut haired sorceress's mind, but none would transfer to writing. ' _Always emotions with me_ ,' Triss thought to herself with a sad grimace on her face, ' _This, little one, is why you were always so weak. This weakness pushed him away_.' "No!" Triss yelled to herself, "I will pity myself no longer. Arynia! Bring me a bottle of port!"

Her servant girl Arynia was quite young but gave the look of experience. Triss met Arynia the first time she had entered her quarters in Pont Vanis. Although timid with a touch of shyness, Arynia never complained and did as she was told. For this Triss was grateful, and they shared dinner many times. The sorceress detested the title of servant, and preferred to address her as "assistant" when she needed to be addressed.

"Yes Miss Merigold, right away," said Arynia from Triss's doorway. The assistant turned and quickly ran to the wine cellar. The castle of Pont Vanis was by no means small, making these runs take quite some time.

Triss moved from her desk where the parchment lay, and to her mirror. Giving a long look at herself, she noticed her hair was in dire need of combing. She released her chestnut locks down, having them fall over her shoulders. Chestnut was the color Triss had been always remembered for. However she changed her hair to a vermillion red for she thought Geralt had died all those years ago in Rivia. When she looked at herself thinking he was dead, she could not live with her hair. It reminded her too much of the one-sided love she had. After he had appeared alive in Kaer Morhen, changing her hair back was not on her mind, only Geralt was. The longing, pain and regret she had felt about her love for him disappeared when she laid her eyes on the White Wolf. Just as he had said he was happy to see her alive after the Second Battle of Sodden, she felt the exact same. The relationship they held was everything Triss had wanted. There was passion, joy and most of all, no more pain. That was until they parted. ' _He had to be certain I suppose… but why did he have to question that uncertainty? For that venomous Yennefer_?' Triss thought with disdain.

Yen had always caused pain for Geralt. In a town not too far north of her named "Aedd Gynvael" she heard of a story that had made Triss feel crestfallen. Whilst Geralt and Yennefer were in one of their many relationships, Yen had not only slept with another man but contemplated his engagement to her. Not being able to decide who she would be with, she had just abandoned Geralt with no more than a letter. This disgusted Triss, for Yen had simply thrown the witcher away, a man Triss never would want to let go of.

Many of her friends noticed the way Yen treated the witcher. Not as a man, nay, but as the White Wolf surname he had acquired. As a beast that needed constant correction and a leash tightly grasped around its neck. Yenna and Geralt mirrored each other in many ways, but this was not healthy for them. They constantly challenged one another and this caused many fights between them. Yennefer wanted to change who Geralt was to fit her life sufficiently. Triss thought the raven haired sorceress loved not the witcher, but the idea of him. For Triss loved Geralt for everything he was, for he was no one but himself, and she did not want that to change.

After the final battle with the Wild Hunt and with Ciri freeing the world of the White Frost, Triss thought she would be pushed aside again so Yen could be with Geralt. This was not the case as they had an air of indifference the last time she had seen them. At Kaer Morhen they met together, Triss, her little sis Ciri, Geralt and Yennefer. The sheer joy and disbelief that coursed through the then red haired sorcerer's head gave much happiness. There was again another chance for her to have the man she had always wanted, needed even. This was a chance that was not going to get away.

That is why the piece of parchment was sitting blank on her desk. Triss needed to write the witcher to tell him of her emotions, of all the feelings she needed to express. She could not leave Pont Vanis, she had a job that required her presence at any moment. A courier would be sufficient for most people but Geralt was a witcher, and he proved hard to find. There was a very seasoned man that resided in Pont Vanis who would deliver it. Money was of little to no issue for the sorceress, as she made a fortune off of being a royal advisor. The payment for the experienced man would be generous, and she hoped he would complete his task. However, the letter needed to be written first.

"Miss Merigold, I have the port you asked for," announced Arynia from the door.

"Bring it here, please," Triss asked whilst consumed in thought.

The servant girl set the bottle on Triss's desk with a bow and scurried out of the room, knowing it was not an opportune time for a conversation. With a drink nearby, the sorceress laid her quill onto the parchment.

' _There you go little one, this should catch his attention at least_ ,' she thought with content as she looked at the finished letter. Pleased with the work she had done, the emotion she filled the letter with, she poured herself one last glass. The alcohol was starting to get to Triss, and she went to lay down. Stroking her chestnut hair that she had turned back after her previous meeting with Geralt, she thought of the last time that they laid together. With a soft smile donning her lips, Triss fell asleep and dreamed of that time.

-[/\\]-

"Triss," Geralt spoke to her in his low timbre which made her body tingle. He then strode forward into their inn room. Her witcher was going to make dinner, a thing that she appreciated. Witcher's cooking was not grand, but filled its purpose.

"Oh, Geralt," Triss said with a warm grin as she closed a book she was reading and walked over to the witcher. Loneliness was a feeling she had felt many times while he was away, but she understood why. That was his way of life, making his return bring her comfort. Once she reached him she threw her arms around his neck and brought him close, touching her soft lips against his. A burst of passion released from her at that moment, making her want more. Holding the contact of their kiss, she slid her eager tongue out in search for his. Geralt placed his hands upon her hips and forced her back slightly and said, "Come now Triss, we have not even had dinner," with a crooked smile.

With a short giggle and another kiss, she stepped back so Geralt could start making their meal. To her, the meal could wait just a little longer. Walking up behind him as he was working on a stew, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. Looking up to him she saw a smile on his face that he only showed to few. These small shows of emotion would be meaningless to most, but this was Geralt, and although he did possess emotion unlike most witchers, it was difficult for him to show them.

"Can we lay down for a while, I am feeling tired," Triss asked him as she slipped her hands under his shirt, tracing every distinct scar that marked his chest with her fingertips. Geralt laughed lightly in response as she led him to their bed.

"Geralt," she said, turning around, resting her hands on his chin, "Take off your scabbards, you know I have trouble with them." Accepting, he laid his scabbards on the floor. While he was undressing, Triss laid on the bed facing away from him as she pulled her nightgown up, exposing her bare hind to him. She felt his eager hands reach her body as he pressed his lips against her shoulder. Letting out a quiet moan as his stubble scraped against her as his lips cooled the sensation, Triss released her bodice from her supple breasts. The callused hand of her witcher grasped one of the freed mounds and stroked it lightly, giving the sorceress a spike in arousal.

Triss felt her folds becoming damp as she pressed her body against Geralt's swelling length. Forcing her on her back, the witcher kissed the sorceress with a twirling tongue as he moved his hand deftly to her opening. Gasping with silence, she clenched the sheets as he slid his fingers inside her, touching in the most sensitive places. Feeling overwhelmed with lust she reached for his trousers, freeing him from the constriction. Not satisfied with her pleasure, Geralt kissed down her chest where there used to be an old scar, fixed long ago with the help of a little magic. Positioning himself at her entrance, he slid his tongue between the folds of her flesh, making Triss cry out his name in bliss.

With her core dripping and spasming with need, she mounted him and pushed his eager rod inside. Moaning loudly as his length reached her deeply, she gained a steady momentum. Her breathing quickened as he placed his hands upon her ass and hurried their pace. Feeling her peak coming, Triss leant down to her witcher and bit his lip tenderly. Working the mound above her folds, Geralt sent Triss over and she shook with pleasure as she dug her nails into his back.

Collapsing onto the witcher, she continued the motion, rising up his length and falling back down. A deep groan came from Geralt's throat while he quickened his pace, releasing himself inside her. The feeling of his broth inside her was warm and more arousing. Him now panting with her, Triss fell to his side and draped her arms over him. The moonlight shinning from their window glistened in their sweat while they laid next to each other. Completing the embrace with his own arms, he whispered over his chestnut haired sorceress.

"You know, the stew is probably cold," He said in-between breaths with a tired smile.

"I don't know about the stew," She replied, "But I won't be cold, as long as I am next to you," she said, embracing him tightly.

Geralt pushed aside a few strands of fire red hair from her face, kissing her head. "I love you Geralt," the sorceress whispered as he moved her head to his damp and slowly rising chest. The lust and emotion that Triss felt during their act did not subside, and she molded herself to her witcher. Smiling, they both fell into a soft and comforting sleep.

-[/\\]-

Waking with a cool breeze blowing off the sea, Triss felt very embarrassed. During the night in her dream she had slipped off her gown and her naked body was fully exposed. ' _I hope Arynia hasn't come in yet_ ', with haste the sorceress sprung from her bed and covered herself. Checking down the hall of her quarters to the door, it seemed that no one was there. With relief she took off her robe and walked to her bath. There was no need for Arynia to bring hot water for she could heat it herself.

Casting a minor flame over the water's surface, the bath water came to a comfortable temperature. She stepped into her tub and exhaled heavily as the warm water greeted her. Many things reminded her of Geralt, be it beds, baths, or carriages, there was always something. The Elven Baths of the Flotsam woods gave her a vivid memory. The passion they had experienced in those baths has stood unrivaled to any other. A barely living reminder of that bath stood in a vase next to her bath. The Rose of Remembrance once brought her pain to look at, but now it gave a feeling of want and longing. She had managed to revive the flower slightly by giving it blood in small amount, but that was not the true sustenance it needed. It needed Geralt's once true love for Triss again to be alive. It had been so long since she had seen the warm bloom.

Snapping back to reality from her thoughts, the sorceress washed herself thoroughly. Rising from the bath and drying herself, she made her way over to her wardrobe. One of the semi-guilty things she had always kept throughout her travels was one of Geralt's jackets. He had left it in her home on a day long ago. It was small enough to fit her, and was padded in red leather on top of a light brown. Though the bold sent of the white haired witcher was long gone, it felt like his embrace when worn. She slipped on a white shirt, then the jacket, followed by tight green trousers that fit her womanly shape. As she was lacing up her heeled boots, Arynia came into her room.

"Lady Merigold, you have a guest," Arynia said as she waited for Triss to finish with her lacings.

"Did this guest give name? I have not been notified before," she said in an irritated tone, for her routine had been interrupted.

Arynia started to leave the room as she said, "No name was given, only that I should tell you your 'Little Sis' is here."

Ciri! This was a surprise, she had not seen her since her last visit to Kaer Morhen. Little Sis has been working on rebuilding Kaer Morhen after its centuries of ware. With the help of the two witchers, Eskel and the ever annoying Lambert, and a few other friends they could have made some progress. Ciri's ability to teleport, without the slightest exertion of energy, probably has made the work go much faster. Sorceresses could teleport as well, but it did take a lot of energy to do so constantly. With the Elder's Blood, Ciri had an endless source to draw energy from.

Triss hurriedly got ready, applying the bare amount of product to make herself presentable. The eye liner that Ciri used every time she had seen her was because of Triss, and her teachings. She taught Ciri how to be more ladylike when they first met at the witcher's stronghold. The young Elder Blood had been treated like a boy and looked of it too, and the chestnut haired sorceress would not stand for it, so she gave her a lady's haircut and taught her the use of makeup.

Now ready to meet her Little Sis, she got up to open her door as a green flash appeared from her balcony.


End file.
